


Best Laid Plans

by enigmaticEditor



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/F, F/M, at least i slipped in some cute poly alyanette nonsense, i have a couple scraps i’ve been messing around with, i hope tumblr burns to the ground, i’ve been wanting to write a miraculous fic for a while, my brain responded to the adrichat bullshit with ‘too ooc but renalya isn’t’ and this fic manifested, my first wasn’t supposed to be THIS, no that last pairing tag isn't a typo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23732362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticEditor/pseuds/enigmaticEditor
Summary: Alya Césaire had always known she was going to be a superhero one day. She even had a rather unique plan to protect her secret identity, and it worked like a charm.But tricksters have to be careful, lest they end up tricking themselves.
Relationships: Alya Césaire/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Alya Césaire/Rena Rouge - Relationship
Comments: 28
Kudos: 172





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Mistakes were made. Both by me, for writing this, and by you, for clicking on it.

Some people never understood why Alya Césaire worked so well with the Fox Miraculous. The power of illusion and deception, for one so dedicated to justice and truth? Even her boyfriend- or, some years later, her girlfriend, the one who gave her the Miraculous in the first place- didn’t know the full extent of her affinity for deceit. 

Alya liked superheroes. Everyone knew that. She made sure everyone knew that. She worked hard to make it a key part of her identity. And it wasn’t a lie, not really. She was enamored with heroes, in every sense of the word. It just also happened to be preparation for the day she would join their ranks. 

She never expected anything less. As such, she also knew she would never be the most prominent of them, one of the threads holding the world together. True heroes, mainstream heroes, the likes of Majestia and Ladybug, they never _knew_ ahead of time. They never felt it in their bones, their heart aching for the future when they would finally be able to help those who need it. The role was always thrust upon them. Alya Césaire was perfectly happy to be an unusually prepared second-stringer. 

They tended to die less often, anyway. Not that anyone in Paris was unfamiliar with death at this point, except maybe Ladybug. Thanks, Syren (though she’d dodged that one). Thanks, Frozer (she wasn’t so lucky that time). 

Whatever. Alya shook off the vague memories of all the times she’d died. The Cure muddled the recollections, thankfully, and she needed to focus on editing this interview. It was an interview with Rena Rouge, of course. 

That was, in Alya’s opinion, the most brilliant part of her Superhero Plan. (She’d never said that out loud. Even in her head, it sounded foolish.) Admittedly, heroes posing as members of the media- both to cover themselves and hear the news as it happens- wasn’t an original idea. She just took it a step further. All those fools desperately trying to hide their secret identity and running themselves in circles had it wrong. There was a far simpler solution. 

No one will think you’re a hero if you have a _very loud, very public_ crush on one. And they definitely won’t expect you to be that very same hero. 

Her real crush was on Ladybug. She’d been more or less successful with keeping that under wraps, though Nino knew. And she thought her best friend suspected. To the rest of Paris, however, it was well known that the Ladyblogger was head over heels for Rena Rouge. 

_Step One_ : Establish an air of professionalism, keeping cool even in situations where others would turn into a fangirling mess. Alya would give herself an 80% on that one. She wasn’t perfect, unlike the red and black-spotted girl of her dreams. Any gay girl would lose her composure a bit around Ladybug. Come on. 

_Step Two_ : Lose that professionalism entirely when interacting with her own superhero persona. Done and done. The first video of Rena Rouge was uploaded to the Ladyblog with nothing but a long string of keysmashes. Her follow-up article had numerous references to her looks, and strength, and _intoxicatingly_ animalistic traits, along with a few spelling errors. That one hurt a bit, but it was worth it. “Renalya” had been coined by her followers within the hour. 

_Step Three_ : Reciprocate hesitantly as a superhero. Show preference to herself. Flirt a little bit, but never quite cross the line. After all, heroes and civilians couldn’t be together. Everyone knew that, and she had no interest in being held captive to lure out her own damn self. 

She’d come up with countless workarounds for the obvious roadblocks of Step Three, but when she discovered she was to wield the power of illusion, they became moot. It was a simple matter to cast a Mirage of herself when needed. They were flawless every time. 

Thankfully, Ladybug saw the sense in letting her do interviews with herself. It would be a little strange if the Ladyblogger was seen with everyone _but_ Rena, wouldn’t it? She didn’t tell Ladybug the full extent of her plan, however. That wouldn’t be any fun. 

“Are you always so… erm. Do you look anything like this, outside of the suit?” Heh. That had been a particularly good question, and illusion-Alya was a better actor than Alya herself was. There was a faint blush on her cheeks, just barely visible in the footage. Alya had never been so daring as to ask about Rena’s appearance before. The Renalya shippers would go ballistic once she posted this. 

“More or less,” Rena responded, with a soft smile and a tilt of the head. That was true. Rena Rouge was a bit slimmer and a touch lighter-skinned than Alya Césaire. Some sacrifices had to be made, as a precaution. There were only so many Martiniquan Creole girls with her build. Rena had gotten the short end of the stick, but she was still stunning. 

Of course she was. She was _her_. Alya finished her edits and pressed the upload button. Work: done. Secret identity: safe. Bed time: now. 

She flopped onto her bed and passed out, dreaming of a smirking orange-clad girl. 

  


“Rena, a moment?” 

“What’s up, Bug?” Alya tried to keep her cool as Ladybug led her away from the others. She’d had a few fantasies that started like this… 

But Ladybug’s look was a stern one. She probably wasn’t about to confess her undying love. Damn. Maybe later. “I saw you in civilian form yesterday-” 

“What? When?!” 

That earned her another glare. Okay, fair. She’d mostly stopped identity-hunting, even though it had always been just for herself, but the habit died hard. “You were wearing a Rena Rouge hoodie. Please be a little more subtle, won’t you, Alya?” 

Alya let a devilish grin creep over her face. “Oh, so you didn’t notice the pin? Or the bracelet? Or the-” 

“ _Alya._ This is serious!” 

“Relax, girl. No one’s onto me. Trust me, I’ve made sure of it.” 

Ladybug crossed her arms. God, she was cute when she was annoyed. As well as all other times. “And how, exactly, have you done that?” 

“You don’t read the Ladyblog very often, do you?” 

She looked taken aback. “No, I do! Of course I do. You remember some akumas better than I do, honestly.” 

“Ever checked out the forums?” 

“No…” 

Impossibly, Alya’s grin grew wider. “Maybe you should sometime.” 

When she returned home, the Fox Miraculous safely back with Ladybug, she opened up the forums herself. The thread- series of threads, actually, for sanity’s sake- had never left the front page. Or the top five most active. Every time it flagged, Rena Rouge made some reference to the Ladyblog, or she winked at her interviewer, or Alya uncharacteristically stuttered over a question, and it shot right back up. 

**Renalya Quarantine Thread #32: Papillon Callout Edition**

Ah yes. The true crime of the supervillain terrorizing Paris: keeping Alya from dating herself. Or so the latest discussion asserted. Alya was pretty sure they were joking, but some of the fans got a little intense. At least she’d successfully discouraged the more... enthusiastic ones. She was fifteen. Keep it T or get banned. 

Some part of her rather enjoyed the cute artwork. She even had a folder with the best of it saved. It always cheered her up on bad days. No matter how crazy things got, no matter how hard she had to suppress the growing feelings for her _very straight_ best friend, she could at least be assured that her greatest illusion to date was holding up perfectly. Only Ladybug and Nino had any clue. 

It had taken her boyfriend a full week to remember the whole Renalya thing after Heroes’ Day. It had nearly broken him. She recalled quite vividly the moment Nino’s mental gears clicked into place and he understood just how badly she was playing everyone. It was a good memory. 

She had a feeling Trixx would approve of her deviousness. Alya looked forward to when the kwami would be her constant companion. She’d always liked the idea of having a familiar. 

  


It took a while, but Alya got her wish. And Trixx was _delighted_ to hear about the full scope of her ruse. 

“Not bad,” they cackled. “Not bad at all. All my best wielders are clever, but you did most of it without magic! Tricky little kit.” 

Alya beamed and rededicated herself to the task. She had a goal: wear the Fox Miraculous openly without anyone batting an eye. If she could pull that off, she could do anything. 

There was one tactic within her capabilities that she hadn't yet employed, and that was to write about herself. She hadn’t needed to; other people did the work for her. But now was the time. If she was going to do this, she needed to play it slow. 

Weeks passed, and a new Renalya fic writer started to come to prominence. Some already suspected it was Alya Césaire herself, based on a turn of phrase here or a particularly accurate detail there. Of course they did. She wanted them to, even if she denied it fervently when asked. She started small. Drabbles. Short themed challenges. Then a couple of multi-chapter fics, Trixx giggling at her side as she typed. The work that really got attention was one that had the kwami howling on the floor, too overwhelmed to fly: a role-reversal AU that placed Alya Césaire as the blatantly lovestruck girl under the mask and Rena Rouge as the quietly yearning reporter. 

When she sent Nino the link, she got back an image of his middle finger and a solitary “dude.” 

Slowburns were trickier, she learned. They required details about both Alya's and Rena’s lives that she had to fabricate. Or pull from reality. She got into the habit of transforming before a mirror, taking note of the minutiae of her costume and her altered appearance. Or just hanging around in the suit, watching herself for fox mannerisms. She’d heard Chat Noir purr. She knew she’d be getting some animal traits sooner or later. 

She was drawing close to the climactic scene of her second slowburn. Fic-Alya, outed as a superhero’s girlfriend, had been held captive. Of course, Alya didn’t want to give anyone any ideas. Fic-Alya escaped and wrecked her captor’s entire shit, no superpowers required, only to find that Rena Rouge had been akumatized while searching for her. Carapace and Chat Noir were nowhere to be found. Ladybug was incapacitated, and Fic-Alya put herself in between her girlfriend-turned-villain and the fallen hero. 

_This is not who you are,_ she wrote Fic-Alya saying, almost in a trance. _Come back to me, my fox._ She described the kiss in the ruined city that burned the akuma out of Rena and restored her- 

Wait. Her heart was hammering. She’d just typed that sentence, but it was true. There was a fire in her chest, and she knew that if she had been standing before her superhero self, she would have pounced and done exactly as she had just written. 

Um. Well. 

_Step Four_ : Fall for your own superhero persona. 

“Trixx? Help me.” 

The kwami grinned wider than she’d ever seen, and suddenly Alya realized that all this time they hadn’t just been laughing at her fooling others. They’d been laughing at her fooling _herself_. “This is a you problem, kit.” 

“ _Fuck._ ” 

  


God, it had been a rough day. Two akumas back to back, one aided by a sentimonster. Half of Paris reduced to ash. One more temporary death that she couldn’t talk about to anyone. It had been worth it, at least. As much as Ladybug- Marinette- _her girlfriend_ , as of last month- hated it, her teammates were there to be her shield. And when Rena’s illusion was spent, there was only one thing left to do. 

She leapt through her window and detransformed, pointing Trixx towards the pack of jerky she’d picked up yesterday. The kwami pounced, their fangs tearing through the packaging and descending on the meat. 

Alya wrinkled her nose. Still, it could be worse. Poor Adrien. 

She plopped down in her desktop chair. Ugh. She needed something to cheer her up. 

Her mouse paused over her art folder, then passed over it. Instead, she clicked on a completely innocent-looking folder in which she kept some basic article templates. A subfolder. Another subfolder. Then a password-protected folder. And finally, a video. 

There was one interview between Alya and Rena Rouge she couldn’t publish. First, because she would die of embarrassment if either of her partners saw it. Second, because if the public believed that Rena and Alya had _actually_ had a rather… tense… discussion about the difficulties of dual identities followed by a kiss, she would be in more danger than she cared to deal with. 

She knew this was stupid. She knew Trixx would make fun of her for it, yet again. But dammit, couldn’t she just pretend for a moment? Rena was… so _powerful_ , so _amazing_ , all the best parts of herself, but different enough that it wasn’t hard to see the hero as a separate person. She loved Nino and Marinette to pieces, but Rena held a place in her heart, too. 

She mouthed along to the words as the video played. Both were illusions, of course. That way, Alya could take Rena’s hand. For support. Even superheroes have bad days. 

A minute passed, and the two figures on the screen grew quiet. Alya took a shaky breath as she watched herself slowly raise her hand to Rena’s cheek, bringing their lips closer and closer… 

“Um.” 

Alya yelped and spun around. Or, she tried. The side of her chair caught on her desk halfway through, sending her to the floor in a heap. When she looked up, Marinette’s bright blue eyes glimmered down at her. 

Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck- wait. Her girlfriend wasn’t disgusted. Or angry. Instead, she had brought a hand up to her mouth, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. Dimly, Alya heard Trixx’s yips of amusement as the kwami zipped around the room. 

“Care- care to explain, Alya?” Marinette choked out over her rising laughter. 

“No. Fuck you. What are you doing in my room, girl?” 

“Well, I _was_ going to surprise you with a date. But instead, I think we’re going to have a talk. You, me…” 

She pulled out her phone. “And a certain idiot cat. Looks like you two have a lot in common.”

**Author's Note:**

> Even in my Miraculous shitpost fic I reference Homestuck. Ah, the Vriska Quarantine Thread days of yore.  
>    
> Alya would definitely be a Homestuck fan. So would Adrien. Read those sentences and know a tiny portion of the suffering I endured writing this fic.


End file.
